


You Know Someone

by magickmoons



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Alternate Universe, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode Related, Episode: s06e19 The Changeling, Gen, Wordcount: 1.000-3.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-19
Updated: 2013-02-19
Packaged: 2017-11-29 19:53:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/690806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magickmoons/pseuds/magickmoons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How did Jack and Daniel meet in the firemanverse of The Changeling?</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Know Someone

**Author's Note:**

> written for hc_bingo wild card fill (prompt: fire). Set within the firemanverse of The Changeling. These events take place somewhere during the year preceding the events we see in the show.

Despite the late hour, there were still plenty of onlookers to avoid as Jack slowly maneuvered his truck as close as he could to the scene. Everyone loved to come out for a good fire, he thought acerbically as he resisted the urge to lean on his horn.  _That's what you get for coming late to the party, O'Neill._  He put the truck in park and sat for a minute before getting out, wondering why the hell he was here.

The weeks since his promotion had kept him beyond busy, filled with countless meet and greets with civic leaders, mountains of paperwork, in addition to transitioning his former duties to Captain Carter. As if that weren't enough, it was now the full moon and he had been called out to back-to-back-to-back scenes over the past 24 hours. So, when he had left the station a couple of hours earlier, he had officially gone off the clock for the night, leaving Carter in charge. A quick stop for dinner and he had almost been home when the call came across the radio and he had wearily turned to head back across town. He had every confidence that she could handle it, probably better than his sleep-deprived self could at this point; but this would be a good opportunity to see how she was adapting to her new responsibilities.

After years with the department, Jack barely noticed the noise, the smell, or the eerie look of the street and spectators illuminated by a combination of firelight and flashing red and white strobes from the engines as he made his way toward the safety zone where Carter was issuing orders. He dropped a quick nod in her direction to indicate that it was still her scene and stepped back to observe. The fire had spread throughout most of the small bungalow and the team appeared to be primarily focused on containment at this point.

He monitored the activity for a few minutes: resource allocation, plan of attack, it all looked good. Slowly, the adrenaline rush that always hit when a call came in started to recede, returning him to the state of bone-deep exhaustion he'd been staving off with a couple of catnaps grabbed between recent emergencies. He didn't need to be here; he wasn't even officially supposed to be here. He could just go home to a hot, hot shower, a soft, cool bed, and a solid night's sleep.

As he started to leave, a man in the center of the street caught his attention. He was standing alone at a slight but definite distance from the small groups chatting and gossiping at this midnight adventure. Judging by his attire - pajama pants, a thin white t-shirt, and bare feet - Jack was pretty sure that this was the resident, displaced from his bed in the middle of the night. Jack wondered at the disconnect between him and the busybody neighbors; normally, the mother-hen types would be all over a good-looking guy like him in times of crisis.

The man didn't even blink as Jack detoured in his direction, his attention seemingly focused on the blaze in front of him. A breeze blowing down the street elicited a shiver, and he wrapped his arms around himself without thought.

Jack frowned and looked over to the ambulance, where the EMTs were standing outside the vehicle. He raised a hand to get their attention. "Can we get a jacket or a blanket or something over here?"

One of the kids ( _They get younger every year,_  thought Jack) ran over with a blanket and gave it to him, talking quickly to preempt Jack's questions. "He refused any assistance, Sir. Appears to be uninjured. He had exited the house on his own and was out front when we got here. We went ahead and backed off." The young man spoke quietly, but his would-be patient showed no signs of noticing him even if he shouted.

Jack nodded. "Understood. Thanks."

He walked over to the resident and held out the blanket. "Here, you look kind of cold."

"I'm fine," the man replied, waving Jack off distractedly. "I'm actually..." he looked down at himself as another shiver ran through him and seemed to suddenly come back from wherever his thoughts had taken him, "... fucking freezing," he finished.

Jack snapped the blanket open with a single shake and put it around his shoulders. A flicker of concern grew as the man grasped the blanket around him; it was a cool night, but not freezing by any stretch, and heat from the fire could be felt even at this distance. "Look at me," Jack ordered. A pair of blue eyes met his quizzically, then with amused interest as Jack laid his fingers lightly against his neck, timing his pulse automatically.

The man smiled briefly. "I'm not in shock."

Jack kept his eyes on his watch as he answered. "You're probably not the best judge of that right now, Mr..."

"Jackson. Dr. Daniel Jackson. I'm a psychologist at Memorial Hospital."

Jack nodded. Doctors always made the worst patients. "And as a trained professional, you must know that it's never a good idea to accept self-diagnosis."

"As opposed to the diagnosis of a stranger?" Jack caught a split-second of amusement in the blue eyes before the impersonal shield that seemed to be his returned.

Jack dropped his hand. "Jack O'Neill, Fire Chief. I could get the EMTs back over here if you'd prefer."

Dr. Jackson rolled his eyes but didn't argue any further. Skin tone, temperature, heart rate - a little outside optimal parameters but nothing worth manhandling him into the ambulance. Jack stepped back with a grin. "Well, Doc, you seem to be all right."

"Yes. As I could have explained without the groping, I've just returned from a tour with Doctors Without Borders. I was working in northern Africa and I'm still getting used to the temperature around here. I'm cold pretty much all the time." A crashing sound inside the house drew their attention back to the fire.

"Damn," Daniel muttered softly, pulling the blanket tighter around himself. Jack quickly scanned the area, making sure that none of his people were in harm's way before turning back to see him staring into the fire again. Jack was struck with a certainty that the burning house wasn't what Dr. Jackson was seeing at all. Suddenly, Daniel turned and wound his way between the emergency vehicles until he reached a clear spot on the curb and sank down tiredly. He leaned forward, wrapping his arms tightly around his shins and dropping his head to his knees. Jack followed and eased down next to him.

Over his years, both with the fire department and before, Jack had seen a lot of people in bad situations. He'd held hands, provided a shoulder, been the supportive voice when someone's world was crashing down around their ears. And for the most part, he was able to go home afterwards and leave it all behind. But sometimes... He looked at the disconsolate figure next to him and realized that Dr. Daniel Jackson of Memorial Hospital was definitely falling into the sometimes category.

"Dr. Jackson," he began.

"Daniel, please." The automatic response was muffled as he spoke into his legs.

"Daniel, do you have anyone you can call, some place you can stay for the night?" The silence stretched on. Daniel was still as stone. Jack was preparing a verbal nudge when Daniel looked up and shook his head wearily.

"I don't know anyone. I just moved here a few weeks ago. This was supposed to be my fresh start." His voice broke slightly and Jack wondered briefly what Daniel was trying to leave behind.

"Maybe if someone could just call me a cab, I can find a hotel... except that I don't have my wallet." He dropped his head back onto his knees and let out a deep, shaking sigh. "Everything I have... oh god."

The loneliness and dejection in his voice were so poignant that Jack couldn't resist reaching out to rest a comforting hand on Daniel's shoulder. Muscles tensed for a moment and then he felt Daniel start to relax; deep breaths that were forced and forceful at first slowly became more even, more natural. After a few minutes, Daniel sat back up and blew out one last deep breath.

"So, what now?" he asked and Jack was relieved to hear the utter bleakness was gone from his voice now.

Jack dug into his pocket and pulled out a folder of business cards. He handed one to Daniel. "Disaster relief assistance." Daniel looked skeptically at him. He shrugged. "It's protocol."

Looking at the card, Daniel laughed. "Office hours: 9 - 5." He glanced at his empty wrist and commented, "It's a little while 'till 9."

"Yeah," Jack agreed.

Daniel tilted his head back and looked at the night sky. "Can I at least keep the blanket?"

"Listen, I was just getting ready to head out. Why don't I drop you at the hospital? I'm sure they'll let you bunk down in one of the on-call rooms." Jack looked at Daniel's bare feet and added, "I think I've even got a spare pair of socks in my emergency bag in the truck."

Daniel looked blankly at him then shook his head slowly. "Why the hell didn't I think of that?" His voice was quiet, almost as if he were talking to himself.

Jack reined in his characteristically blunt response, but couldn't quite erase the smug look on his face as he waited. Sure enough, a slightly embarrassed smile crossed Daniel's face as he answered his own question. "Because I am actually mildly in shock and not quite thinking straight. Touché."

The ride to the hospital was just long enough for Daniel to approve of the classical CD in Jack's sound system and for Jack to be appalled by Daniel's professed disinterest in ice hockey. Conversation fell into a comfortable silence as the events of the night began to catch up to Daniel and he leaned his head back against the headrest, staring out the side window. As Jack passed the drop off driveway, he could see Daniel's near-protest-turned-resignation out of the corner of his eye. He pulled into an empty parking spot, turned off the truck, and stepped out. Daniel followed slowly.

They entered through the ER, the best staffed entrance in the middle of the night, and Jack quickly explained the situation to nurse on duty. She clucked sympathetically as she called for someone to come up and escort Daniel to the bunkroom.

Jack shoved his hands in his pockets and fought back a yawn. "Well, guess you're good to go from here."

Daniel nodded. "Yeah, thanks."

A young nurse came through the door and smiled broadly at Daniel. "Dr. Jackson? Follow me, please."

"Well, night." Daniel smiled tiredly as he turned to follow her down the hallway.

"Daniel!" Jack called. Daniel turned back.

Jack fished out his notepad from his shirt pocket and scrawled his name and phone number on it. Tearing the page off, he handed it to Daniel.

"You know someone now. Give me a call if you ever need to talk, or, ya know, wanna grab a beer or anything."

Daniel took the paper slowly and looked at it. He looked back up at Jack with a smile. "Thank you."

Jack watched him as he walked down to where the nurse was holding the elevator door open for him. The doors shut and Jack smiled to himself as he turned around to head for home.


End file.
